Last Christmas

“Hey Grandma, it’s been so long, how are you?” My grandmother walks towards me and gives me a big warm hug, she smells of coffee beans and Lysol. “You don’t ever call me to check up on me, you don’t love me no more?” I love my grandma to death but she drives me crazy. 

“Sammy, what the hell is this?” I turn around to see my grandmother standing in my door frame. “What’s the matter?” I ask her. “This room is disgusting, are you a pig? Clothes all over the floor, dirty dishes everywhere, what’s wrong with you?” my grandma yells at me. I look around the room and I see a few pieces of clothing I forgot to pick up, and my dishes from breakfast this morning. I wish I could roll my eyes but I don’t have a death wish, I close my math textbook and pick up my clothes. My grandmother pushes me aside, bends down, and picks up the clothes off the floor herself, “Oh God! My back, my back,” she yells out. When she comes back up, her back is hunched. She walks toward my desk like a baby learning to walk for the first time, she picks up my dishes and walks toward the kitchen. As she walks towards the kitchen, she pauses and says to me, “There’s something wrong with you, if you’re able to live like this.” I don’t reply with anything because I’ve learned that if I do we’ll just argue, and I’d rather avoid that. Once she leaves I put on my headphones and turn the volume up, this maths homework won’t finish itself. 

“Grandma I’ve just been really busy lately, you know, with my new job and everything. My boss is very anal, all work and no play, I go to work and come back home to work some more.” She looks at me with a disgusted face, “No it’s amazing, I love my job, I get to do what I love every day,” I say trying to convince her. She doesn’t look convinced. She quickly changes the topic to ask me, “How are you doing though, with the death of Frankie?” My eyes begin to water but I tell myself don’t cry, I can’t believe Grandma Frankie died, she was fit and sprightly, her death makes no sense, but that’s life for you. Nothing in life makes sense. “I’m dealing as best as I can, I honestly don’t have time to think about it, at work I have deadlines to meet, I want to keep my job, I have not-,” I stop talking because if I continue I know my grandma will make me feel bad about how I truly feel. 

I look out the car window, it looks like a winter wonderland, like in those hallmark Christmas movies. My grandma stops the car, “What are you doing I’m going to be late for school,” I say frantically. It’s the last day of school before Christmas break, all my teachers decided to give out tests to bring in Christmas cheer. “You have time, what’s up with you? You look depressed,” she says. “I’m fine, I’m just stressed out, I have a test in each one of my classes today,” I say so she would leave me alone. I lean my head against the car window, turn my music up, and try to relax. When I open my eyes I’m in front of the school, I step out of the car and my grandma yells, “Have a great day!” I close the passenger door, nod at her, and smile, I walk slowly, I turn around and she’s gone, I think to myself what if I skip school and walk home. She would never know because she’ll be at work until 3. If she asks me why I’m home before her I could just tell her I got a ride from a friend. But that’s not very convincing considering I only talk to two people, both of whom don’t even have their permit. I roll my eyes and hustle to get out of the cold and into school. “Good morning Steve,” I say to the security guard as he scans my school i.d. “Mornin,” he says with a big cheery smile, like Santa Claus himself, “Here,” he says and passes me a candy cane. I walk up the stairs in the school’s main hallway, towards the library. I scan my id and quickly greet the librarian, I sit at one of the computers, put my headphones in, and try to study for my first test of the day. I’ve been in the library studying since 7 am but it felt like all of five minutes when the bell rang. I get up push in my chair, and wave the librarian goodbye, I walk into English and sit down in my seat. I look out the window and see a swarm of crows in the sky, a way to boost my confidence god. “That’s creepy,” Marco the boy that sits behind me says. When everyone in the class gets settled in my teacher passes out the tests, I start as soon as I get it, I realize I have nothing to worry about. I quickly whip through the questions and finish the test before the rest of the class. I decided to look over my test because I don’t want to be the first one to hand it in. Marco taps my shoulder lightly and whispers, “Yo what did you put for number 5?” I roll my eyes and whisper back, “It’s b.” “And what about…” he asks for the rest of the multiple-choice answers. Marco never pays attention in class but he’s still passing English by cheating off of me. I know he’s using me because our conversations usually start,  “with did you do last night’s homework?” But I don’t mind. Marco gets up to hand in his test and I follow him, he puts his arm around my shoulder and asks the teacher, “Hey Miss, can me and Sammy boy go to the library and study, we got tests all day, it’s quite stressful Miss-” My English teacher cuts him off with a hand motion waving towards the door, “Thank you miss,” Marco says. Any chance anyone of Marco’s teachers gets to not have to deal with him they’ll take it. He’s not a bad kid, he just talks a lot, never pays attention, and makes inappropriate jokes, that sounds bad but he does have a good heart. When we walk out of class Marco lets my shoulder go and holds my hand this time. He starts to skip and swing our hands down the hallway, we reach the library and sign in. “Hey Sammy, back again huh?” the librarian asks me, “Yea, got some more studying to do,” I reply with. “Well before you go I wanted to recommend this book to you, you don’t have to sign it out just bring it back when we return from break,” my librarian says. “Oh, thanks so much,” I say, I think Ms. Willoughby; the librarian, is my second favorite person, right next to my Grandma Frankie. Marco and I walk to the back of the library and sit on the couch, “You’re different Sammy boy,” Marco says. “How,” I ask him, “You actually like Ms. Willoughby, you study, read, and all that shit, that’s strange, not in a bad way though, it just means you have your shit together.” Marco and I study, well I study, and Marco scrolls through his phone, until the bell for our next class rings. As I’m studying I look over at him, he’s kind of cute, he’s tall, lean with olive skin. He has thick perfectly arched eyebrows, full lips, and big amber eyes like pools of honey. “Boo!” Marco says, I jump a little and nervously dart my eyes back to my studies. The bell rings a couple of minutes later, Marco gets up and as he walks to his next class he blows me a kiss and winks at me, I blush a little. For the rest of the day, I try to forget that Marco of all people made me blush. 

It’s finally the end of the day, I stressed myself out for no reason, all my tests were pretty easy, I get scared because sometimes when you think a test is easy, it could mean you’ve failed. Whatever I think to myself, when I go home I get to go see Grandma Frankie. My mood improves and when my grandma picks me up and asks me about my day, I smile and talk to her the whole drive home. When I get home, I pack up my clothes, gifts, and the rest of my shit to head to Grandma Frankie’s house. Each year the both of my grandma’s alternate between who hosts Christmas, this year it’s Grandma Frankie’s turn. Grandma always gets an attitude when it’s Grandma Frankie’s turn to host Christmas, this year especially, hopefully, she’ll get over it. Christmas is supposed to be a happy time. After I finish packing my stuff together I start to read the book Ms. Willoughby recommended to me. “Come on Sammy, it’s 6, we gotta go,” my grandma calls out to me. I’m so engrossed in my book that I don’t hear her, she yells again, “Samuel, let’s go, I know you can hear me!” Oh shit, I jump up and speedily get my shit together, when I’m ready, I walk into the living room and sit on the couch. I can’t find my grandma so I get up and poke my head into the kitchen, she’s still putting her banana bread and whatnot into containers to bring to Grandma Frankie’s house. Grandma Frankie is hosting Christmas this year, so you’d think Grandma would cool it on the baking and the cooking, relax a little, let somebody else worry about what we’re going to eat. Nope. While I wait I play 8-ball with Marco on my phone, I won. When my grandma gets all her stuff together, we head out, I plug the aux cord into my phone and start playing my “Chill Vibes” playlist. The name is a little cringe but that’s all I could come up with, but the name of the playlist is realistic, the music is chill. I stop playing vulgar music around my grandma because I don’t want to put her into cardiac arrest. The drive to Grandma Frankie is only an hour and a half, when we walk into her house, she yells, “HO, HO, HO MERRY CHRISTMAS!” She wears a Santa Claus outfit with the beard and everything, she’s so cute. Grandma Frankie and I talk for a long time about the school, music, television, and everything we could think of. I don’t get to see Grandma Frankie that often because of how far she lives, and because Grandma thinks she’s a bad influence. She only thinks that because Grandma Frankie is a free spirit, she does what she wants, and doesn’t care about what others have to say about it. 

I remember when I was about 6 years old, I had spent the night with Grandma Frankie, all weekend we danced, sang, painted, baked, we just had non-stop fun. On Sunday, she took me out for ice cream, as one last hoorah before Grandma picked me up. I told Grandma Frankie I wanted to dress like Cinderella, we had just watched it the night before and I was obsessed. So before we went out for icecream she took me to the store and bought me a princess dress. Before we went inside the ice cream parlor, I excitedly put on the dress in the car. When we walked into the parlor Grandma Frankie told the employees, “Prince Sammy would like one scoop of birthday cake ice cream, preferably in a waffle cone…. Here you go, your majesty.” The employees probably thought we were insane but she didn’t care and neither did I. When we drove back to her house, my other grandma was already there to pick me up, she was furious. She yelled at Grandma Frankie for letting me go out in public with a dress on, she said that Grandma Frankie was going to turn me queer. Grandma Frankie stood her ground, she said, “I’m sorry I think people should do what makes them happy, whether that’s wearing a princess dress or loving who they want to.” That was the last time I spent the weekend with Grandma Frankie, the only other time I got to spend time with her was at Christmas. 

When I awoke on Christmas morning the whole house was quiet, scarily quiet, I went to the bathroom and then went to investigate. No one was home except for Grandma Frankie, she was still asleep in her bedroom. She looked so beautiful in her sleep, she had thick, long, curly black hair with natural silver streaks in it. She had long, thick curly lashes like a doll, and pink full lips, I shook her shoulder lightly. She didn’t move, she must be tired, I shook her again harder this time, she still didn’t wake up. I nervously lifted her hand to check her pulse. She was dead. 

“Yo Sammy boy how was your break?” Marco asks me. I stop walking, I know I have to go to school but I can’t seem to move. “Yo Sammy,” Marco calls out to me while whistling. “Yo you good?” he asks me. No, I’m not. I fall apart into thousands of pieces, and next thing I know, Marco holds me in his arms, consoling me,  in what is probably his bedroom. I look up at him, wipe the tears off my face, “Why? Why did it have to be her!” He doesn’t respond with anything he just rubs my back in circular motions until I cool down again. I fall asleep in his arms, and when I wake up he asks, “Do you want some water?” I nod and reach out my hand for the glass of water, and my hand shakes aggressively, I can barely bring the glass up to my mouth. Marco takes the glass from my hand and holds it up to my mouth to drink. He touches my face gently with his hand and kisses my cheek. 

“I can’t believe this is Grandma Frankie’s last art show, I remember going to these when I was younger and getting excited for them like if it was a holiday,” I say to grandma. We walk around the museum looking at the last remnants of Grandma Frankie’s life and mind. I admired Grandma Frankie for a lot of reasons but for her art especially, she’s the reason I decided to do art. I don’t paint like her, but I do animation, I hope she’s proud of me. As I walk around the museum, looking at my grandma’s art I feel weightless, like I’m floating on clouds. Her art radiates, love, positivity, and joy, “Elizabeth Miller, you have the right to remain silent…” What’s going on? Who’s getting arrested? I turn around to see my grandmother in cuffs, I think that was the first time I’d ever heard my grandmother’s name. “What’s going on? Why are you arresting her,” I call out to the cops, “Elizabeth Miller is wanted for the murder of Frankie Davis…” I can’t move, I can’t speak, I can’t do anything. “Sammy, baby, I’m sorry, I-, I’m so sorry, if I could take it all back I would.” I don’t feel anything, my mind is blank, I walk out of the museum without looking back, I drive in silence. When I get home, Marco kisses me on the forehead, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it tonight I had t-,” he cocks his head sideways. “You ok baby?” he asks me. “She killed her,” I say dryly. “Huh? Who killed who? Baby, what are you talking about?” Marco asks with a confused face. “She killed her. She killed her. She killed her,” I say repeatedly, each time my voice going up an octave. “SHE KILLED HER!” I yell. I burst into tears, and pound on Marco’s chest out of frustration, he pulls me into a hug and tells me everything is going to be ok.